


Firelight

by tyomawrites



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Crushes, Getting Together, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Season/Series 01, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 11:45:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18141761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyomawrites/pseuds/tyomawrites
Summary: Arne is drunk and giddy with two incredible crushes on his friends





	Firelight

Arne giggles drunkenly, the ale in his cup swishing side to side as he stumbles over to the fire from his tent. Torstein, Leif, Ragnar and Floki are already there, watching the flames flicker. He’s been eager with the ale, already on his fourth cup. He bumps shoulders against Torstein as he sits down, rocking the both of them on the log they’re sitting on.

“Arne!” Torstein chuckles at him, slinging an arm around his shoulder. He’s tiny compared to Torstein and Lief, and Ragnar and Floki. His frame is small, barely five foot eight inches compared to the heights that the others have reached, with a slim waist and slim hips, flat stomach. His shoulders are broad, and his biceps are hardened from working a bow, but he doesn’t carry the bulk the others do. 

He sinks into Torstein’s side, as Floki laughs and holds out a different cup towards him.

They’ve been out here for five nights now, their own little way of bonding as friends. They packed their things and took the horses out towards Scar mountain in the middle of winter. Arne brought his bow with him to hunt as did Ragnar, only Torstein's large frame and Floki’s crazed laughter scared off most of their prey, other than a few small rabbits. It left him, Ragnar and Leif sighing, left to skin and gut the few rabbits they would have for dinner that night.

Floki swishes the cup around again to get his attention, shaking out of his head. It has his special mushroom brew that he likes, that sends all of them careening into the floor. Torstein’s arm tightens around his shoulders as he abandons his cup of ale in the snow for Floki’s mushroom brew. The mushroom brew is slightly bitter as it slides down his throat, but the effect is almost instant, he feels drunker, giddy, his head heady. Arne’s giggle increases, head filled with cotton and his throat burning in a sweet way. He drinks more out of Floki’s cup, and chases it when Floki pulls away. 

“Slowly Arne.” Floki teases him. “You drink too much of it too fast and you’ll be falling over.” Floki is the only one that can handle more than three cups of his own brew, Arne can handle two if he hasn’t drunk anything else. Arne’s giggle trails off, but Torstein ruffles his hair playfully, his short nails scratching against his scalp. He’s sitting at the end of their half-circle, no one in his blind-spot —Torstein’s idea to make him feel safer.

“He can handle it.” Torstein teases, turning his head. His lips graze his hairline. Out here in the snow, Arne pushes his hair and the snowflakes out of his face, letting his head laze backwards to look up at Torstein with bright eyes, poking his tongue out over his bottom lip. “Can’t you Arne.” A smile plays across Torstein’s lips.

They sit back and laugh, grinning as Leif lifts his head towards the sky. They exchange stories and laughter, smiling at each other. Arne lifts his head against Torstein’s arm, blushing further from his warmth as the snow continued to fall. Torstein is firm and warm against him, pressing the line of his jaw against Arne’s hair.

They’ve been so close for so long, he stares up at Torstein longingly, sure he can blame his starstruck expression of awe on the drink if their friend’s ask him why. Torstein looks down at him, a gentle turn of his head. Torstein smiles at him sweetly and presses the tip of his nose against his hairline, brushes his lips against his hair. 

Ragnar stands abruptly as it gets later in the night, proclaiming that he missed Lagertha and was going to do something about it. The rest of them laughed and jeered at him as he stumbled back towards his own tent, saluting them playfully. Leif retires only a time after him with the same excuse about his new wife, leaving the three of them around the fire.

Arne shuffles closer to Torstein, closer than necessary to feel Torstein’s warmth, his fingers grazing Torstein’s thighs. They’re exchanging soft stories now, Torstein talking about a girl he’d met in the village, Floki talking about how active the trees were, how they were speaking to him about a new boat to build. In the cold and slight drunken stupor, he clings harder onto Torstein, his own small frame shaking in the cold.

Floki laughs, in his haphazard and own crazy way and downs the rest of his mushroom brew, spotting the shake in Arne’s frame. His eyes are wide and wild in the firelight, as they all huddle closer to the fire, just the three of them now. A blush settles over Arne’s cheeks as Floki gets up and saunters over to the both of them, dropping down to sit in the snow at both of their feet. 

Somehow, Floki sits in the cold with only a fishnet shawl over his shoulders and his trousers, boots half laced on his feet, without freezing. Snowflakes sit in his hair, as he leans his head back to look up at the both of them. He slings an arm around Torstein’s leg, his hand landing onto Arne’s knee, rubbing small circles on it.

The blush spreads to the tip of his ears, Floki props his chin onto his other knee, radiating warmth, breathing through the thin fabric of his pants. Arne rolls his bottom lip between his teeth. They’re slowly getting drunker, swaying against each other, the three of them all touching each other.

He’s had a crush on his friends for almost a few years now. His feelings for Torstein bloomed ever since he learned that Torstein could use a bow like he did, and keep up with him. They started training together and Torstein was there for him when he lost his eye, a firm arm around his shoulder and an affectionate kiss grazing his hairline and Arne had been in love ever since. 

And then Floki, when Ragnar and Torstein had brought their friend with them onto their first camping trip, Floki’s eccentricities had drawn Arne’s attention to him, and furthermore, they made Arne like him. He liked the way Floki giggled when he was drunk on his mushroom brew, he liked the way Floki slung an arm around him and crooned about the gods and the trees and how he saw everything that wasn’t in this plane of existence.

After that, he’d thought of Torstein and Floki together, and the three of them had been as thick as thieves ever since. 

Arne stands abruptly, the warmth seeping into his skin, burning hot, Floki and  The way he fit against Torstein’s body is almost pleasurable. The way Floki wraps an arm around their legs like he belongs there leaves a stripe of warmth across his legs that tingles up his spine. He sways, eyes looking towards his tent. Torstein and Floki stand as well with him, hands coming to his side to steady him.

“Arne?” Floki’s voice is low as he leans in. They both tower over him, bright eyes staring down at him. He smiles up at them. He reaches out towards Floki first, hand clutching at the shawl around Floki’s shoulders and tugging him close. Torstein presses flush to his chest, his anchor, stopping him from stumbling back in his own hazy stupor

“Aren’t you cold Floki, showing off like that?” He asks the question innocently—although the thoughts that run through his head about how pale and beautiful Floki’s unmarked chest is aren’t so. He’s slurring his words, trailing a finger down Floki’s chest, thumb running down the dip above Floki’s sternum, before tracing the lines of his stomach.

Floki giggles and shakes his head, his lips spread into a wide grin.

“I think someone’s drank too much.” Floki looks over his head towards Torstein, sharing a smile. Arne’s hair falls over his face as he shakes his head. He hasn’t, he’s only had four cups of ale and one of Floki’s mushroom brew, in fact he thinks he’s entirely too sober for the thoughts he’s thinking

“I’ll take him to bed.” Torstein offers, Arne blushes, biting back a soft moan at the implication, even though he knows Torstein means something innocent. Floki replies with something about staying up to speak to the gods, Arne isn’t too sure, he’s distracted by the way Floki’s eyes glint in the moonlight, the warmth of Torstein’s hand gripping onto his bicep, ready to maneuver him towards his tent.

Floki smiles at Torstein, over Arne’s head with an expression he can’t read, before Torstein turns him and walks him over to his tent, his chest pressed flush to Arne’s back. Arne gasps softly, as Torstein’s fingers trail down his spine, before they duck through the slit in their tent. He trips over something, not looking at where he’s going and Torstein catches him and holds him close to his chest.

He glances up at Torstein, through his hair with his good eye. Torstein is looking down with concern, his cheeks lightly dusted with a bit of pink, even in the dimness of his tent. Torstein lays him down onto the bed, carefully so he doesn’t bump his head. Arne stretches out over the bedding, arms above his head, his shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of his skin on his lower stomach. Torstein looks away, hands on his thighs, like he’s ready to leave.

Arne’s hand darts out just as Torstein is about to stand, catching and circling around his wrist. “Stay.” He pleads, sitting up, propping himself up on his elbow to stare at Torstein. His friend turns his head towards him, eyes conveying confusion. “It is cold and,” He hesitates. “You are warm, and I feel safer if you were to stay.” He admits softly.

He has always felt safe in Torstein’s embrace, whether it be in an inn, in the great hall, walking through the streets of the village, or on a ship, raiding to the east. The expression on Torstein’s face softens and he nods, abandoning his axe belt to the side and shrugging out of his large fur coat. He settles onto the bed next to Arne, letting him lean his back against his chest.

“Do you not feel safe, even though we’re in camp with friends?” Torstein asks softly into his hair. His fingers pause where they’re tracing across the thin blanket covering his legs. Torstein seems to sense his slight hesitation, because he turns Arne over to look him in the eyes. “Arne?” 

He’s entirely distracted from the question, face to face, chest to chest with Torstein as his closest friend’s chest rises and falls against him. He reaches up with his hand, traces it along Torstein bicep before impulsively, he leans in until his lips are a hair’s breadth away from Torstein’s.

“Just feel safe with you.” He whispers, admits. His fingers stop at the nape of Torstein’s neck, and he closes the gap and kisses him.

Torstein kisses like he does everything else. With strength, with determination. His lips are slightly chapped, as they capture onto Arne’s worried bottom lip. Torstein traces the seam of his mouth, asking for entrance, moaning against his lips when he receives it. A moan tears out of Arne’s own throat, as he curls his fingers into the nape of Torstein’s neck and drags him closer. Torstein’s hands curl into the back of his tunic, clutching at his lower back and they press Arne flush against him.

“Arne.” Torstein gasps finally once he pulls away. Arne blushes deeply, as his lips tingle, feeling like they’ve been kissed raw. “I.” 

They’re interrupted by Floki, ducking his head into the tent. Floki pauses with his mouth parted, eyes flicking between the two of them before he lets out a short crow of delight, tumbling into the tent towards them. “Took you long enough.’ He drawls, falling to the edge of the bed and gripping onto the collar of Arne’s shirt. He drags Arne up, over Torstein’s body to kiss him. 

Floki kisses him and it feels like wildfire, warmth spreading through his body. The fingers of Floki’s free hand scrambles over his body, teasing at the line of his back and his waist, his hips, before the grope at his crotch. Floki pulls away with a delighted noise. 

Arne makes his own confused noise, staring between Torstein and Floki. Torstein sits up on the bed, reaching out towards him with an arm. Torstein pulls him close before he can protest and he goes willingly, letting his friend hold him and rub a hand down his spine.

“Torstein’s been dreaming of you, I was wondering how long it would take you to make a move.” Floki teases him with a glint in his eye and a smile wide across his face. Floki moves and drapes himself over Torstein’s lap, leaning in to press his forehead to Arne’s. “I cannot count the times he’s moaned your name,” Floki slyly smiles, reaching back towards Arne’s crotch and unashamedly cupping it. “Or how many times I’ve heard you moan his.”

They both blush heavily as they glance over at each other. Any questions Arne had immediately died in his throat. He’s unbearable hard from both the kisses, his chest pressed sideways to Torstein’s, Floki’s hand on cupping his cock doesn’t help.

“You wanted me?” Arne mumbles breathily as Floki rubs his hand over the bulge in his pants. Torstein’s eyes drop to the scene, dark with lust as he reaches out with his own large hand and circles Floki’s wrist. He drags Floki’s hand up towards his mouth, licking a stripe across the palm before jerking his head back to Arne.

Arne moans, louder this time as Floki deftly undoes the ties to his trousers and pulls him out of his underclothes, using his spit-slicked hand to grip at his cock.

“Isn’t he pretty Torstein.” Floki teases. Arne blushes to the tips of his ears, no one’s called him pretty since he was a teen, with soft hair falling over his boyish face, before he lost his eye. 

Torstein hums, brushing his fingers down the side of Arne’s face, the left side so he doesn’t flinch. Arne gasps, as Floki’s fingers rub over his cock and twist, as Torstein brushes his fingers over his lips, parting them and pressing the tip of his thumb into his mouth. “He is.” Torstein’s voice is low, scratchy, as he leans in again to kiss him.

This kiss is softer, gentler. Torstein traces his bottom lip with his tongue and then pushes inside, tasting him. Arne moans helplessly, clutching with one hand onto Torstein and the other curling into Floki’s shawl. A mouth burns hotly on the side of his neck, lips graze his skin, a sharp nip of teeth. Floki presses to his back, hand still twisting around his cock while Torstein holds him by his cheek. 

A large hand—Torstein’s hand—wanders down his side, curls around his hips, his fingers brush the swell of his ass. Torstein breaks pulls away to look down at him. Arne is flushed, mouth parted with soft please, eye staring up a Torstein in awe as Floki kisses the nape of his neck and wrings moans that interrupt his quiet begging.

“Torstein.” Floki’s voice croons from behind him. “Give him what he wants.” Torstein moves at that, stripping out of his clothes with an obvious enthusiasm. Torstein pulls his shirt over his head, shucks out of his tunic and eager kneels onto the bed. Arne rakes his eyes up and down Torstein’s frame, his cock twitching in Floki’s hand. Floki giggles in his ear, squeezing the base of his cock. 

“Go on Arne.” Floki’s breath brushes across the lobe of his ear, his tongue licks the shell of his ear and Arne gasps. “Suck his cock.” Floki whispers, voice low and sultry. Floki’s hands drop to his waist and urge him to lean forward, to lean towards Torstein. Torstein holds his hands out towards him, cupping his cheeks as he comes closer, dipping down to touch his shoulders and trace down his arms, calloused fingers brushing over the thin fabric of his sleeves. Soon. Arne is on his hands and knees, between Floki pressing his own bulge flush against his arse still teasing his cock, and Torstein breathing heavily and his cock hard in front of his face. 

Torstein’s hand brushes through his hair, tugs on it experimentally. He watches Torstein with a careful eye, before he leans in and takes the head of Torstein’s cock into his mouth. Torstein groans, tightening his grip and it encourages him. He leans forward further, enthusiastically falling into the action of taking Torstein’s cock further into his mouth, until it bumps the back of his throat. 

He pulls off and gasps, a line of spit still connecting them, before he raises his eye to meet Torstein’s and dives back in, stretching his jaw as his pushes all the way down, until his nose presses the wiry curls at the base of Torstein’s cock. Torstein lets out a strained moan, his hips involuntary thrusting in response. 

Arne does his best to smile smugly around Torstein’s cock, a giggle rumbles in the back of his throat, vibrates around Torstein’s cock and drags out another groan from his mouth. Fingers slide his trousers down from his hips, long, deft fingers—Floki’s fingers—tease at the curve of his arse, reach down to cup his balls while one hand still twists at his cock. Floki delivers a swift smack to one of his cheeks with a small sound of delight. Arne’s throat tightens from an involuntary yelp, muffled by Torstein’s cock. He breathes out harshly through his nose, arching his back.

“Floki-” Torstein’s voice is hoarse as his eyes lift from Arne’s to stare behind him. “Floki do it again.” Floki does, delivering a controlled smack across his arse. Arne yelps again, pulling off from Torstein’s cock to glance over his shoulder at Floki. His friend is grinning wildly, eyes trained onto the curve of his back. 

“Pretty.” Floki coos, running his hand over the handprint beginning to form. “Who knew you were hiding this under your coat hmm?” Floki smirks, squeezing a handful of his arse. Arne blushes, dropping his face back down. A hand grips it and Torstein lifts his face back up, grinning down at him.

“Hmm don’t be shy Arne.” Torstein coos down at him, clutching at his cheek.  He leans in to kiss his forehead before Floki manhandles him by his thighs and pushes him forward, until Torstein is leaning back and Arne is swiftly deposited on top of his friend’s hips with Floki pressed to his back, the three of them toppling away from the bed to splay on the ground.

Floki moves behind him and Arne moves with him, rolling his hips against Torstein’s, the insides of his thighs being assaulted by Floki and Torstein’s hands. Arne mumbles something, distracted by their hands, reaching out to splay his own hands across Torstein’s chest, his fingers brushing across his tattoos.

“What was that Arne?” Floki breathes against his lips. 

“Please.” He repeats clearer, spreading his legs wider across Torstein’s thighs. Floki teases the cleft of his arse, producing oil from Gods knows where before teasing at the rim of his hole. He yelps when Floki abandons the grip on his cock and pushes a finger in to the first knuckle. Torstein hands replaces floki’s twisting with a smooth and slick grip. 

“You’re so small Arne.” Torstein teases him, pumping his hand on on his cock. “How are either of us going to fit?” Arne chokes on a bit of spit in his mouth, the thought of both Torstein and Floki taking him, one after the other,  _ at the same time _ . Torstein punctuates the thought with a thrust of his hips, up against the inside of Arne’s thigh. 

“With patience.” Floki purrs into his ear, leaning forward so that both of them are bent over Torstein. “And plenty of preparation.” Floki twists his finger in further before pulling it free, slicking two of his fingers and pushing them inside. Arne yelps, biting down on his bottom lip and stifling a whimper. 

“Ah ah.” Floki shakes his head against him, one hand coming up to peel his bottom lip from his teeth. “We want to hear you.” Floki gives a particularly angled thrust of his fingers, pressing inside him, until Floki knocks against a spot inside him that causes him to give out a keening wail.

A hand claps over his mouth, Torstein shushing him. “Not too loud Arne.” He laughs, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “You want to wake Ragnar and Leif?” 

“I want the one of you to fuck me.” He protests in a softer voice, thrusting his hips forward into Torstein’s grip. “Please.” Floki laughs in his ear, thrusting his fingers inside him, curling them and twisting them. 

“Now.” He keens when Floki doesn’t change his pace. “Floki.” He gasps when Floki removes his fingers. 

“Hush Arne.” Floki croons in his ear. “Patience is a virtue.” He teases, before there’s a drizzle of oil across the cleft of Arne’s arse. The oil is warmed by Floki’s fingers, pushing back into him and scissoring, before Floki pulls them out again, replacing them with the slick of his cock across the rim of his hole. 

Floki pushes in experimentally, the head of his cock pressing into him with a slick pop. Arne gasps loudly, letting out a low whine at the first thrust of Floki’s hips. He falls forward onto Torstein’s chest, hands scrambling for purchase as Floki groans with another slow thrust. 

“Floki if you don’t fuck me proper right now.” He growls, turning to glare over his shoulder. Floki is wide eyed, mouth parted with the corners dragging up into a grin, one hand pinching at his own nipple while the other is firm on his arse, squeezing at once cheek. He pushes back onto Floki’s cock, sinking down on it until he feels the thin jut of Floki’s hips press against his arse. 

He clenches, a moan tearing from his throat when Torstein’s hand goes back to pumping around his cock. “Floki I think you should listen to him.” Torstein laughs, before mouthing at the crook of Arne’s shoulder, his free hand brushing over his chest, teasing over a nipple. 

“Fine.” Floki huff, wrapping his hands around Arne’s hips, shucking up the fabric of his shirt to grasp tightly onto him. “Patience is still a virtue.” He mumbles playfully, thrusting forward sharply. Floki fucks into him like Arne thought he would, sharp pointed thrusts punctuated with a quick scratch of his fingers. He mewls, voice scratchy, when Floki’s cock pushes against that spot inside him, sending sparks across his spine. 

“Fuck Floki!” He shouts, clutching onto Torstein, pushing his face into Torstein’s shoulder to muffle the raising of his voice when Floki begins to thrust harder, squeezing at his hips. Torstein’s hand squeezes the base of his cock and it jumps, curving up towards his stomach.

Floki hums in his ear, bending them both over further until his chest is pressed to Torstein’s and Floki’s is flushed against his back. “You’re so tight Arne.” Floki croons in his ear. “Do you know how good you feel? Hmm?” Torstein chuckles when he mewls at the praise. He tucks his face against Torstein’s chest, gasping with each of Torstein’s thrusts, moaning against Torstein’s skin.

Floki falters above him as he tenses, clenching around Floki’s cock, groaning and gasping in his ear. “Fuck Arne.” Floki’s hips stutter against him, until he pushes deep and chokes on a gasp, spilling inside him. Arne is still hard, his release held back by the firm grip of Torstein’s hand. Floki tumbles to the side of them, onto his side, his shawl abandoned and his own trousers pushed to his knees, lazily stroking his softening cock.

Torstein grins up at him, releasing the grip on his cock so he can wrap his hands firmly around Arne’s waist and lifting him, re-positioning him in his lap. Floki leans over and pulls Arne’s trousers further off his legs before tossing them aside, leaving only the shirt he’s wearing to hang on his frame. Torstein reaches around him and pushes two fingers into him, smiling when he gasps.

“Torstein.” He whimpers down at his friend, fingers shaking on his chest. “Please.” He adds when Torstein twists his fingers.

“Hmm, what is it Arne?” Torstein smiles up at him sweetly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, curling his fingers and teasing him. 

“Fuck me you arsehole.” Arne slaps his hand lightly over Torstein’s chest. “Fuck me please.” He whines insistently, grinding his hips back onto Torstein’s fingers. Floki laughs next to them, sitting up to drop his hands onto his waist. Floki pulls him across Torstein’s hip, pressing him further onto Torstein’s fingers.

“When the fuck did the two of plan this.” Arne gasps, staring between the both of them as Floki rearranges his hips. 

“Hmm? We did not plan anything.” Floki giggles in his ear, breath puffing over his neck. Torstein fumbles beneath them, Arne can feel the thin drizzling of oil against him, across Torstein’s cock, and then Torstein is pushing up into him, stretching him.

Torstein is different from Floki, with girth while Floki had a length to his cock. Arne arches his back, curving back to kiss the side of Floki’s face as Torstein sits up to thrust in earnest into him. His hands find one of Torstein’s and one of Floki’s as he moans and whines, begs to feel the both of them touching him—even though they both already are. 

He tugs them both closer, until Torstein is sitting with his back straight, chest pressed against his own, and his own back is curved against Floki’s chest. He kisses Floki again, finding the corner of his mouth, tasting his lips, that mushroom brew. He whimpers, chest heaving as Torstein pounds against the sparking spot inside of him. 

“Look at you Arne.” Torstein grunts against him. Floki hums in agreement from behind him, smoothing a free hand into his hair and pulling on it to expose his throat. “So beautiful, fucking gift from the gods you are.” They both lean in to mouth at his throat. Torstein’s teeth closes over his Adam's apple, grazing his skin and teasing him. Floki’s drag over his pulse-point, biting down with sharp teeth pricking into his skin.

“Fuck the both of you, that’s not true.” He gasps, dragging his blunt nails against Torstein and Floki’s fingers. Torstein lurches forward, his arm pinning Arne to his chest by the small of his back, toppling them over so that he can angle his thrusts into Arne. Floki dives out of the way, before rolling back to mouth at the side of Arne’s throat, feeling it move between his lips and teeth while Arne gasps.

“Hmm. Don’t argue with me on this Arne.” Torstein punctuates his words with a sharp thrust of his hips and a smile, dragging his cock against the clench of his muscles. 

Arne’s next protest is interrupted by Floki turning his head to the side and biting down on his throat properly, drawing blood from the pinpricks of his teeth. Floki laves his tongue over the bite and the beading blood as Torstein thrusts into him. 

Torstein leans down to kiss him, while Floki continues to leave bite marks and mouth-shaped bruises across Arne’s throat and exposed collar. “We’ve wanted this for a while.” Torstein teases against his lips. “We wanted you.” 

“I wanted the both of you.” He gasps in response, clutching onto Torstein and Floki. He brings their hands up to his chest, to his lips, taking their fingers into his mouth to tease them. Torstein thrusts further into him, harsher, rougher, tucking his own face into Arne’s shoulder, biting down with blunt teeth. Arne arches beneath him, pleasure curling and taking hold, spilling over his exposed stomach and his shirt, clenching around Torstein.

“Hmm. We knew that. Didn’t we Floki.” Torstein grins to the side as he continues to thrust against the clench of Arne around him, where Floki has hints of blood on his teeth and lips, smiling at the both of them. Arne stares at him, with the same amount of awe in his eyes. Floki looks beautiful, deranged and unhinged and beautiful. 

“Fuck you.” Arne spills halfheartedly, gasping when Torstein pushes deeper into him, his own hips stilling half a dozen thrusts later with his release inside. Torstein groans and playfully nips at his throat, over where Floki had first bit him. 

“I think we just did.” Floki muses with a sweet grin. Arne laughs softly, resting his head forward against Floki’s outstretched hand. Torstein and Floki pulled themselves and him up from the floor, the three of them flopping into his bed.

Arne is sandwiched between the both of them. Torstein spooning his back and Floki snuggled into his chest. Torstein uses an arm to drag his fur coat over the thin blankets that covered them, wrapping all three of them.

“How long have you known.” He whispers curiously towards Floki. Floki smiles widely at him, lifting his head up to kiss his nose and tap his forehead playfully. 

“You’re not that good at hiding it.” Floki teases. Arne pouts, as Torstein tightens an arm around the both of them. “And you’re very obvious when either of us takes our clothes off.” Arne blushes and hides his face against Floki’s chest. The both of them made a soft noise towards each other, before Torstein is pulling him onto his back, the both of them looking down at him.

“Do you like us Arne?” Torstein asks gently. 

“D-Do I like you?” He stammers, ducking his gaze. “I uh, I.” The blush across his face deepens and he can feel the heat rising from his cheeks.

“Arne?” Floki props himself up on his elbow. “Just nod if this is okay?” Floki says softly before leaning in close, until he’s a hair’s breadth away. Floki brushes his lips against his, at the corner of his mouth, waiting. He nods, his bottom lip trembling slightly, then Floki is kissing him chastely.

Floki pulls away and Arne turns his head to look at Torstein. Torstein smiles at him, warm and inviting. “May I?” He asks softly leaning in close. Arne nods, and gasps softly when Torstein kisses him just as chaste as Floki did. 

Arne relaxes into the kiss, as Floki wraps an arm around his waist, Torstein’s arm coming to rest on top of it. He makes a soft, tired noise between them, resting his hand on Floki’s and Torstein’s taking in how small they were compared to them. It doesn’t bother him really, not with the way Floki and Torstein are holding him now.

The next morning, a soft breath puffed against his temple. Arne shifts, eyes fluttering open slowly. Floki is pressed against his right side, breathing against his temple, blowing wisps of his hair from his forehead. Torstein is radiating warmth against his left. 

Arne relaxes back into the bed, laying his head back and sighing happily to himself. Floki’s hand squeezes his. When he turns his head, Floki is looking at him with soft eyes, nosing him gently. “Not regretting this are you One-Eye?” Floki whispers, slipping his fingers between Arne’s. 

“No.” He shakes his head gently, smiling. “Not at all.” He leans up to kiss Floki, brushing his nose against his. 

“Good.” Floki says plainly, moving his hand up to brush the strands of hair falling over the scar on his face. Floki kisses him again. Torstein tightens the arm around his waist with a quiet snore.

It is good.


End file.
